The Soldier and his Spies
by Robert M
Summary: A collection of one-shots focused on the shenanigans of our favorite trio: Steve, Natasha, and Clint. Also includes the rest of the Avengers. Steve/Natasha relationship in some chapters with Natasha/Clint and Steve/Clint friendships as well. Eventual appearance by Johnny Storm! Rated T for language and non-explicit sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I had a few ideas running around in my head about some one-shots that I hadn't seen before. Some of them are funny, some aren't, but I write them anyway because I think I'll enjoy them. There's no time order to these, and while I know that a lot of these stories may not be quite canon, you've just got to raise your suspension of disbelief. Most of the stories are Steve, Natasha, and Clint-centered, and there's a Natasha/Steve relationship to most of them.**

**Please read and review! Also, please excuse any mistakes I didn't find; I often find that I read what I intend to have written rather than what I actually wrote.**

**Enjoy (or at least try to)!**

**I own nothing!**

* * *

Steve, Tony, Thor, Bruce, and Clint were gathered around the kitchen table, tacos in hand and a couple of beers cracked; even Steve, who couldn't get drunk, had already downed two bottles. It was just after one o'clock, and the sun poured in through the windows of the tower, bathing the team in a warm afternoon light. Steve sat in silence, observing his teammates and enjoying their communal day off. With two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, one scientist, an Asgardian god, Tony Stark, and Steve Rogers (a so-called "independent contractor" for S.H.I.E.L.D.), the days where they all shared breaks from work were few and far between. It was nice, Steve thought, being together as friends rather than a task force in the battlefield.

Steve took another quick swig of his beer when, suddenly, a blood-curdling scream erupted from the direction of the bathroom, the door practically vibrating from the pounding of the high-pitched sound waves.

"What the Hell was that?" Clint asked.

"I don't know, man. Sounded like Natahsa," replied Tony.

"Natasha? No, she doesn't do that. Couldn't have been her," Clint assured.

"Oh really," says a low, accusatory voice from the bathroom. Everyone stopped, and then the door burst open, Natasha stepping out with a murderous look on her face. "I need one of you to go get me tampons. NOW."

Steve froze, stopping himself as his teeth sunk into the taco with an echoing crunch. His mouth was still pressed against the hard shell when a stray piece of lettuce fell from the end of the taco, impacting the table with a soft thud that could be heard throughout the room due to the silence created by the one and only Natasha Romanoff.

"Excuse me?" Bruce practically gasped.

"Unless one of you ladies has an extra stash somewhere, I need you to go get me a box of tampons."

"Can't you borrow some of Pepper's?" asked Tony.

"I just used the last of hers," Natasha snarled in disgust at the memory of Pepper's light flow tampons, the _bitch_. Natasha had to use two at once just to slow the flow.

"I must return to Asgard," announced Thor a bit too quickly. He stood up, toppling the chair behind him before rushing out the door.

"Oh, look at the time. My tests are almost done." Bruce practically ran out of the room, followed by Clint, who didn't say a word.

"Pepper's calling. I have to take this." Tony brought the phone up to his face despite the phone not ringing. He exited the dining room in a dash, leaving a Natasha with an anxious and speechless Steve, taco still in hand.

"Looks like you're the only one left, Rogers," Natasha mused. "Kotex. And make sure you pick up some Midol for my cramps."

Natasha stormed back to the bathroom before calling back to Steve, who was still frozen in his seat, eyes wide and mouth agape. "Now, Rogers! The dam's about to break!"

* * *

Steve stared at the shelf in front of him, overwhelmed by the dozens of different brands and styles with so many different colors. His motorcycle helmet was tucked under one arm of his brown, worn leather jacket. Several women walked by him, quietly snickering at how the man furrowed his brow at the selection in front of him. He was fairly sure one of them made an "aww" noise, and he was positive he heard one woman whisper to her friend how "cute" it was for a "big, masculine guy to buy his girlfriend _feminine products._" Steve, however, just wanted to slump into a deep, dark hole at all the attention he was receiving.

Finally, he gave up, practically throwing his arms up in frustration before pulling out his phone. He flipped it open a bit more violently than he intended, scrolling through the 7 contacts he had before finding Natasha and pressing the green call button.

"Hello," a voice answered after several rings. Something about the voice echoed, and Steve realized she must have still been in the bathroom.

"Tasha," he whispered. He turned his head to see if anyone was listening in on the conversation. "I don't know what I'm doing here. Are you..." he picked up the nearest two boxes, comparing the brand names and descriptions. "Intermediate or heavy flow?"

"Neither of those are going to stop Niagara Falls, Rogers. I need ultimate flow protection."

Steve was about to ask her where he could find that when he heard the distinct ringing of a dial tone. She had hung up on him. It was so dramatic; it was so _Natasha._ Sighing in frustration, Steve reached forward and grabbed an armful of the closest boxes to him.

"That time of the month, eh?" the older man at the counter asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he picked up the first of eight boxes of tampons. "Girlfriend?"

"Something like that," Steve murmured. He stood in silence for a moment before reaching over, picking up a box of chocolates from the nearest shelf, and haphazardly tossing it on the conveyor belt. The cashier's grin widened.

"Those usually keep them satisfied."

"What?"

"The chocolates, kid. Women love them."

"Oh, well... Yeah." He had actually bought them for himself, but now that he thought about it, of course Natasha would have devoured them all anyway.

"How about some roses?"

"No thanks." Natasha would probably burn them.

"Some ice cream?"

"Already have it." If there was any left.

"Midol?"

The second item Natasha had made him come for. "...Shit."

* * *

The ride back to the tower was interesting, to say the least. The clear, so-called earth-friendly bag dangled from his elbow, revealing its contents to anyone who happened to look over. Several young men shouted at him, commenting on his purchase as his motorcycle thundered past them until the bag decided to break, dropping its contents into the middle of a busy intersection.

"Mom, that man just dropped a bunch of boxes of tampons!" Steve heard the little girl's snickering over the sound of his bike's engine.

He quickly hopped off the bike, scrambling to gather the boxes from the pavement as the thundering of horns filled his ears. He tucked as many as he could into his jacket, zipping it up until he looked like a burnt marshmallow. He grabbed the remaining two boxes, tucked them under his arm, and rode off on his bike at a dangerous pace.

* * *

"What is this shit?" Natasha snapped before taking all of the boxes Steve had set on the table and throwing them all off in a fury. "I said _ultimate flow_!"

"And what's this?!" she picked up one particular box, crushing the cardboard with her fist. "Do I _look_ like I have a wide-set vagina?!"

"Uhh... I-I don't know," Steve flustered.

"Go back and get me what I asked for!"

"I'm sorry, Natasha," Steve frantically yelled as he was running toward the elevator, ears and cheeks red.

* * *

"_Depends_, Steve? Are you kidding me?!" Natasha picked up the box of adult diapers and whipped it at Steve's head, the man ducking as it whizzed by his cheek.

"Be back soon!" he hollered without daring to look back, already in the elevator.

* * *

Natasha squinted at the box in front of her face. "Organic?"

Steve prepared himself for the onslaught of boxes, flinching when she moved the box to take a closer look.

"I'll go back."

* * *

When Steve returned for the fourth time, Natasha was not waiting for him in the living room. He cautiously made his way around the common floor, searching for her. Just as he was about to give up, he heard a low, primal grunting coming from the staff bathroom. He made his way to the door when a deafening shriek exploded from the bathroom. Steve jumped back in surprise, stunned.

"Natasha?" Steve knocked on the door. "I'm back. I got pads this time."

"Steven Grant Rogers," she growled at him.

"Natasha?"

"I tried the organic ones." Just then, the door opened, revealing Natasha, dressed in loose, grey sweatpants and a white tank top. "The string broke when I tried to pull it out."

"S-so...?"

"So what do you propose we do, _Captain_?"

"We?" he practically squealed. She narrowed her eyes and advanced on him.

"Yes, _we._ You bought them. You're deep into this as I am. Get in here," she motioned to the bathroom behind ehr.

Steve's eyes were practically bulging out of their skull, and he took a wary step back as Natasha took another one forward. Her mouth slightly curved upward as her eyebrow rose, and before she knew he was even moving, Steve was gone, the only evidence he was there being the change in air pressure from his escape. "I think we should start to call you Captain Gullible," Natasha said to herself before retreating back into the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yeah, I know this chapter is so far from canon that it's practically in a different universe, but bear with me.**

* * *

"What's your status, Captain Purity?" Tony drawled, faintly mimicking the southern twang that was emanating from the speakers that seemed to surround the room. Steve simply raised an eyebrow in confusion, his concentration on the article he was reading so _rudely_ interrupted by the billionaire. He didn't bother to respond, hoping the man would return to whatever mundane task he was busy completing not moments ago. "And what's this shit on the radio?"

"I happen to like country music," Barton announced from his seat in the middle of the couch, surrounded by Steve on his left and Romanoff, who had stopped tapping her fingers on the screen of her phone, on his right.

"Ah, of course, who else would it be?" Tony deadpanned before waving his hand in the air, the motion being detected by Jarvis's sensors as a cue to change the station.

"Hey!" Clint pouted, crossing his arms in frustration as Tony hopped on the love seat opposite the couch, the fluffy cushions letting out a slight hiss as he sank down.

"Back to my original question," Tony began, the corners of his mouth that had been curved into a wicked smile suddenly dropping, matching the tone of his now-completely serious voice. "Jarvis's sensors, S.H.I.E.L.D. intel, and my own research have indicated that, well... I don't know how to tell you this," Tony paused, his eyes landing on Steve, who was still doing his best to ignore Tony. Natasha and Clint, however, were all business, and Bruce, who had been tinkering at the coffee table looked up at his team. Thor stopped his rifling through the cabinets and turned his attention to Tony.

"Spit it out, Stark!" snapped Natasha, annoyed at the man drawing out what could potentially be a deadly threat. She felt offended for a moment that S.H.I.E.L.D. would contact Stark, of all people, first, but she pushed the emotion aside, noting to herself that she needed to have a discussion with Fury after this about agent priorities and need-to-know information.

"Well, our sources indicated that Steven Grant Rogers," Tony sighed, running his hands through his hair in a worry, "alias 'Capatin America''s virginity has yet to be compromised."

Silence permeated the six Avengers. Steve slowly lowered the newspaper he had been reading a few inches, which had been hiding his face from Tony, and revealed his eyes, meeting the man with a positively _icy_ glare. The stare down dragged on for what could have been hours, and, to Tony's credit, he did not break; his deadpan stare had not even cracked. It was Bruce's stifled coughing that broke the silence, Tony turning to him in surprise with a smug grin plastered across his face.

Natasha's slap across Tony's face caused his smile to slightly falter. Slightly. The crack of skin upon skin wasn't nearly as loud as it was when Tony questioned the Captain's sexuality that one time, but it was still enough to sting.

"I do not understand. Where does the Captain's virginity rest? Is it not for the best that it has yet to be tampered with?" asked Thor quizzically, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'll explain it to you later," Clint replied without turning around to Thor, his stare still focused on Tony, who was surveying the room for laughter, only to find the rest of the team - save for Thor - stifled and uncomfortable.

When his gaze finally rested upon Steve again, the newspaper was in his lap, and his stare was locked onto Tony like a missile locks on to a target. His ears were a deep red, the blood gathering across his cheeks as well. This, however, was not a blush; it was different. _Angry_, Tony thought.

A white-hot fury matched the fire in his eyes, and in a moment, it was gone. The tension in Steve's body suddenly disappeared, his shoulders relaxing and the flush leaving his cheeks. He dipped his head backward and let out a hearty laugh, his deep voice echoing around the living room. He reached out, grasping Tony's shoulder, and no, Clint did _not_ flinch because he thought that this was going to be how Tony Stark met his death.

"Good one, Mr. Stark," Steve made a purposeful swipe at his eyes, wiping away the tears of laughter. "Virgin!" Steve laughed again, making it sound as though Tony's assumption was absolutely the most ridiculous idea ever crafted.

"What?!" Tony practically squeaked, and Steve's booming laughter immediately cranked up to eleven.

"Tony, I was on USO tours for six months. I may be a gentleman, but I'm still a _man_, after all!" Steve choked out when his laughter subsided to a gentle chuckle.

"How... how many of them?" Tony blurted out, confused.

"Let's see, there was Betty, Ruth, Elizabeth, Agnes," Steve began counting on his fingers, each additional one sending Tony into a further state of shock before Steve suddenly stopped. "You know what, I think... But, wait, Dorothy?" Steve contorted his face in concentration before a light almost visibly went off in his head, and he abruptly smacked his forehead with his hand. "Of course, Dorothy! How could I forget? So, yeah, twelve."

"You slept with twelve women." Natasha's voice was steady, but Clint couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement.

"At least on the USO tour, yes," Steve replied innocently.

"There were more?" Bruce squinted at Steve, pushing his glasses up a few millimeters on his nose.

Steve sent Bruce a knowing smirk, slightly tilting his head at the doctor before standing. He casually folded his newspaper, stuck it under his arm, and grabbed his bottle of water off the table before exiting the room at a leisurely pace.

The rest of the Avengers sat in silence, processing the information before Tony exploded.

"No way," Tony blurted, not quite sure what to say.

Natasha simply shook her head, returning to her phone, thumbing the screen back to life to return to her game. Clint turned back to Thor, who was, evidently, completely stunned, standing ramrod straight, eyes wide and fixated on the living room's exit where Steve had just left.

"He's fucking with us," Tony decided loudly. "He's got to be."

* * *

Tony Stark's omelets were a national treasure. Well, okay, maybe not _Captain America-level _national treasure, but still great; they were the one food item he could complete without setting off every smoke detector in the tower. That, coupled with Natasha's blueberry pancakes and Clint's hickory-smoked bacon, made the steaming platter in front of the group almost irresistible, particularly to the tower's resident demi-god.

Weeks had passed by, and the interaction had been passed off by the rest of the team as a way to get Tony riled up in order to stop prodding at Steve's personal life. He had taken the hint and, for the most part, had done his best to back off. So, when Steve's birthday arrived, Tony decided out of the goodness of his heart that he and the Avengers would make his first birthday since his defrosting a special one.

This was the reason that the five of them were currently standing outside of Steve's door at 6:27 in the morning. As ungodly as the hour may have been,_ hush, Clint,_ they had managed to drag themselves out of bed and make their way to the Captain's room precisely 3 minutes before he left for his daily run through the city.

"On the count of three," Bruce whispered, holding up three fingers and counting down. When the last finger fell, Natasha yanked on the knob, and the door swiftly swung open, Tony having Jarvis disable the locks in advance to permit their entry.

"Surprise!" they yelled to the incredibly large form in the bed, which immediately shot up in a panic, revealing a woman with long, dark hair and plump red lips that matched the shade of her cheeks.

"Hey, you can't be in here!" Clint yelled instinctively before he noticed the figure beneath her, her dark brown hair no longer obscuring the view of a horrified Steve Rogers beneath her.

He did his best to sink into the mattress, turning his face away from the group and slumping down. He could not, however, hide his heavy breathing or the fact that he was nearly drenched in his own sweat. Oh, and the fact that he wasn't wearing anything except for Tiffany - no, Trisha. Or was it Tanya? It didn't quite matter to him at this point. He just needed a release, both figuratively and literally. This was the first time in nearly a year that he had been with another woman, and frankly, he thought he deserved it. It was a way to move on, move forward, and Tanya, no, Tammi? Anyway, she was more than willing to oblige. In fact, she was the one who had suggested it. One night of consensual fun was all it was, and Steve was, for once, fine with that. He needed someone's feminine touch - anyone's. The fact that Tiffany - he was sure it was Tiffany now, right? - reminded him so much of Peggy with her luscious chestnut hair was irrelevant. He knew she wasn't Peggy, but she was something. And _damn_, she sure was something.

"There's a woman in Steve's bed. Straddling Steve. Naked," Tony stammered slowly, carefully choosing each word.

"I think you broke him," Natasha spoke, the smallest of smirks curling her lips upward. If Steve had the courage to look harder, he would have seen a hint of jealousy in her expression, but he was too busy trying to make himself invisible to even face her at all.

"Get out!" Steve screamed, now practically a tomato. The group was, for the most part, happy to oblige, leaving Steve and the woman behind to finish their private activities.

While the others turned away, Thor advanced forward, simply laying the platter of now-lukewarm food down on the bedside table, grinning widely before telling Steve and his "fair maiden" that there was plenty of food for the two of them. _Oh, god, I want to die_, Steve almost whispered.

Bruce led a stunned Tony out of the room, mouth moving but no words coming out. Natasha was somehow already gone, but it was Clint's knowing wink that made the Captain bring his forearm to his face in shame.

* * *

It was almost two hours before Steve found himself in the living room again, the five of his teammates plus Pepper sitting in an uncomfortable silence, as if they were waiting for him.

"Steve, this is an intervention," Pepper's voice was gentle yet stern, and it almost made Steve head right back out the door he came in. He heard the faint dinging of the elevator, telling him that Tiffany - he was sure; he'd asked - had made her escape. He was glad that she was gone, no longer there to mortify him in front of his team, but she took his only means of escape - the elevator. Deciding to face the Avengers, he quietly turned back to them, resting his eyes on Pepper.

"I didn't even know her!" Steve blurted out, then quickly covered his mouth in shock of his revelation.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, and Clint didn't even try to suppress his grin this time.


End file.
